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Chapter One
“The course of true love never did run smooth.”
—Lysander, Act 1,A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Fix him! I demand that you restore him to rights immediately!”
Ere shouted this demand in the face of a wizened, white-haired and white-bearded old man, though he looked ageless at the same time.
But Ben saw the being’s true form beneath the shell of illusion.
He’d had this Gift since he was a child. He’d been the first to see Estelle Martin’s true form—more beautiful than Arwen from theLord of the Rings, he famously said. Turned out, “Mama Bear” was actually Ishtar in disguise. She still took that form when mingling with humans, for she loved to bake and take care of people.
Ben was also the first to recognize the many forms of Ere, who had the ability to shapeshift with even more ease than his mother. His only animal form was the black dragon, while her animal was a giant snow leopard. But he could take many human forms, whereas Ben had only ever seen Ishtar as herself and as the portly, sweet old lady, Estelle Martin.
Ben knew from the first time he saw Ere, as Sophia’s ex-teaching assistant, then as a man called Binu, and also as the “Creature” that was the evil demoness Medusa’s henchman—that they were all one and the same. Tal had sensed it too, blind though he was. Or, perhaps his blindness enabled him to see the truth while others’ eyes deceived them.
Ben’s Gift showed him the white-haired being’s true form.
He kept this knowledge to himself. For now. He wanted to understand why the old man put on the disguise first.
The mysterious being looked down at Sorin’s gray, unmoving body, now back in his human form. Annie stood beside Ben, agog at everything around her, barely knowing where to look.
Though human, Annie was also in possession of special Gifts. Whether genetically blessed or synthetically enhanced, she was what her adopted mother Clara, and the Dark King Ramses’ Consort, Eveline, called a “fire witch.”
Annie had seen her share of supernatural events, having been raised by a fire and air Elemental pair. But her eyes still rolled around like a baby owl’s taking in their mind-boggling surroundings.
Towering columns that looked strong enough to hold up the world. Gleaming marble floors that looked like they were made of one single sheet of rock, no crevices or lines or imperfections to be seen. Jewels and precious stones sparkled from all sides—in the walls, the supporting pillars, the ground they stood upon.
But the most spectacular part of the cavernous hall was the clear dome sky high above them, beyond which galaxies spun, shooting stars streaked, and the yawning unknown stretched endlessly into time and space.
Based on Ere’s descriptions, Ben deduced that they were currently standing in the Great Hall of the Celestial Palace of the Jade Emperor. Therefore, the being before them, disguise notwithstanding, was likely the JE’s “butler,” as Ere often sassed—otherwise known as the Master.
“Hmm,” the magical being mused, mustache twitching, though his expression didn’t change one whit from its neutral mask.
“He is not dead. Still breathing.”
“I can see that for myself,” Ere retorted, impatience, fear and soul-deep desperation blazing like electricity in his crystal blue eyes.
“But something is obviously wrong with him. You are a Master of dragons. You have all Kinds in the Celestial Realm. You must know what to do to heal him. So justdo it!”
At this, Ere grasped onto the fabric of the Master’s robe, pulled him nose to nose on tiptoe and bore down on the much smaller man with gritted, bared teeth.
Ben saw, however, that the man was not what he seemed. He was much more powerful than his aged form implied. Even so, he let Ere manhandle him.
The question was,why?
“You overstep,long-er,” the Master said quietly, in his perfectly calm tone. “Release me at once. Before I make you. You will not like the consequences.”
Ben let out a breath of relief when Ere did so. In the desperate state he was, it was a wonder sense still managed to prevail.
The Master smoothed a hand over his chest, instantly straightening his robes to pristine wrinkle-free once more. He moved closer to Sorin’s prone form and looked down, one silk-slippered foot toeing Sorin’s hip with mild curiosity.
For a long time, a pregnant silence oppressed the Great Hall. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. No one dared move as the Master looked Sorin over.
“His soul seems to be fading,” the mysterious being finally observed.
“There is a… curse engraved into his left side. It is not one I recognize, for certainly, no one of this realm put it there.”
